6 months.

Dear family and friends,

I’ve sat down to write this blog post at least a dozen times. There is too much to say and my thoughts are so jumbled! First of all, there is this crazy thing that happens when you have a baby, time goes into super sonic fast zone. How has it already been six months {okay, almost seven} since Eden was born? It has simultaneously been the longest and shortest six months of our lives.

On April 9th, at 8:01 in the morning, our 8lb 1oz precious God-given gift, Eden Grace entered the world. I was abundantly grateful that I was able to give birth unmedicated with Sam and our doula, Kelley, at my side. Those first weeks home are now a blur. I remember I cried non-stop. We relied so heavily on people to care for us. I cried more. We changed a lot of diapers. I nursed. I prayed. I nursed some more. And then I nursed more. I was in a constant state of feeling like a failure for having no idea what I was doing, but in the same breath feeling like I had never done or been something so amazing as being Eden’s mama. I was, and still am, so proud that the Lord lets me be her mom.

Oh, speaking of Jesus. He shows up in the mightiest of ways when we are the weakest. And boy does a baby amplify your weaknesses. Time and time again, Jesus has shown up to remind me that He is Eden’s keeper. In the loneliness of the night when there are big beautiful eyes staring deep into my soul, and my whole body is cringing. In my releasing of control into the hands of others who care for Eden while I am at work. In the first illness that left us weary. In the accidental head bonk or dog scratch. The Lord is her protector.

While he has lent her to us here on earth, ultimately her days are His. She belongs in his mighty hands. You would think that would bring great relief. But we live in a fallen world, and my cynical heart struggles to believe. So every millisecond of every day that I am consumed with worry is just so wasteful. I’m teaching myself to breathe and lay it at the Lord’s feet. That is not to say that we should not be wise. We should be going before the Lord daily and asking for the perseverance and wisdom to answer this calling as parents. As Eden’s parents, we should go to bat for her because the Lord has entrusted her in our care. But as Sam often gently reminds me, “don’t try to be what only God can be for Eden.” Ugh. So much truth. Being a mama is hard. The hardest work I’ve ever done.

But oh the JOY. I’ve realized that I struggle with experiencing joy in general. I am fearful in joy-filled seasons that it will be taken from me, so I choose to be numb to it (yes counselor friends, I realize this is unhealthy!). Our first year of marriage I was so filled with fear that Sam was going to die in a car accident that that “honeymoon year” was filled with tears and heartache and irrational fear. My pregnancy, the time of my life that I felt the most lovely, was filled with fear and lack of joy because I was terrified I would loose my baby. I carry the burdens of others so heavily at times that that too can out weigh my joy because I am so wrapped in the unfairness of my joy and their pain. But then this little human entered our world and there are times that I look at her and am so consumed with joy it’s hard for me to explain. My whole body swells with jubilation. It’s a deep, deep, hard-to-wrap-my-head-around, love. The Lord has been so kind to me. He’s teaching me that I should indeed, experience joy with my whole being. And Eden, you guys, she radiates joy.

I know very little about motherhood, other than you need Jesus (and Sam, but he’s taken). But to the women - this is one thing I am sure of - whether you have your own biological children, the children in your church family, the children you babysit, the children you are longing for, the children you are grieving for, the children who you wait to hold in Heaven, the children you gently lead back to their parents at a park, the children you don’t shame when they are throwing a tantrum in the store, the children you think or pray for around the world - you are a mama. You are important. You are doing the hard work of furthering God’s Kingdom by loving on the Lord’s little persons. For you, mamas, I am so thankful.

Love,
Katelyn

P.S. In other news, Ethel became a dog the day we brought Eden home from the hospital. Poor thing. Although she is neglected now, she's still a good pup. She get the biggest smiles from Eden. We see a great friendship (love/hate of course) in their future.

"What mom?" 

"I just want to pull this tiny hair right here." 

"Oh man! She caught me!" 

Best friends.

34 weeks.

our sweet girl's profile at 33 weeks

Dear friends and family,

Talk about a blogging hiatus. Honestly, I haven’t known what to say. Some of you have asked me to share about this pregnancy, and that has caused me to sit down and cry many, many tears without being able to type any words. I hope this blog can become a way for Sam and I to share the “fun” in our lives again with all of you, but I do have to thank you for allowing it to be a sounding board for my emotions the past year :) It’s also been such an encouragement to hear from you all, and to allow you to walk in this beautiful mess with us. So, pregnancy.

Physically, I’ve never felt better. I received two shots in my bum once a week for the first 28 weeks and, while painful, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. As someone that has always struggled with self-image I can honestly say that pregnancy has made me feel beautiful, maybe for the first time in my life. I got my first stretch marks a few weeks ago and although they aren’t a sight for sore eyes, I secretly love them, and have  cried many thankful tears over them. Stretch marks are a forever sign on my body that I can carry a child. There are few things more beautiful to me. And oh to feel this girl move. There really are no words. Just constant praises to the Lord. 

Emotionally, I’m an absolute disaster. I’ve allowed the devil to creep in time and time again over the past 34 weeks and steal my joy. I go through waves of feeling like everything will be okay, to feeling like everything is going to go terribly wrong. My poor Sam. He is so calm. I know he sees me and feels helpless. God’s kindness is written all over the past 34 weeks. One of the greatest gifts has been my class this year. Oh how I wish everyone could experience pregnancy through the eyes of 10 precious first graders. The joy every morning when they say “good morning Ms. Katelyn AND little baby!,” the excitement when they put their small hands on my belly and feel her move, the sweetness and innocence in every question they ask with their curious minds. The Lord knew I needed this class this year even more than they’ve probably needed me. And my sweet Sam. What a guy. It has to take some deep love to put up with so much crying!

Spiritually, I’m a mess. I wake up every morning and thank God that I’ve had the privilege to carry this baby for another day. But then I doubt his goodness when I allow the fear to set in. I’ve struggled this whole pregnancy with joy. Could the Lord really want me to experience this much happiness? Am I allowed to let my heart invest and fall in love fully? It’s felt unsafe on some days and natural on others. Every. single. morning. I repent of my unbelief. I repent of the habit to Google something instead of trusting that the Lord has this in his hands and wants this child for us. All I know, is that I am so incredibly thankful for a gracious God. It reminds me to be more gracious with the kids in my class when I feel like I’m a broken record. I imagine God feels like a broken record reminding me of his faithfulness.

Then there’s a part of me that feels like I’ve never truly experienced the gospel like I have while pregnant. The love and delight I have in this little girl has to, on a much smaller scale, reflect the love and delight the Lord has had in me since before I was formed in the womb.

So pregnancy. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. It’s truly a miracle that, by the grace of God, I haven’t taken for granted for a single second. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever wrestled with spiritually or emotionally. And in the midst of so many unknowns there has only been one constant. The Lord has not forsaken me. He has allowed me to fail time and time again, and time and time again has called me back to himself as a beloved child.

This week we reflect on this time last year. Finding out we were pregnant and losing our first baby into the arms of Jesus. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think and wonder about that baby. He or she will always have a piece of our hearts. So pray for us this week, that we would feel the nearness of God in every move this baby makes and be reminded of his kindness to us. But also pray that we would also have space to mourn the loss of the baby we miss dearly. We are 6 weeks away from this little girl being in our arms. To God be the Glory, forever and ever.

With love,
Katelyn (& Sam)